


Winter

by GallicGalaxy



Series: Little Whispers (Post-asylum Oneshots) [3]
Category: Outlast (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff, M/M, Post-Asylum AU, This is just one long reference you won't get
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-05
Updated: 2015-11-05
Packaged: 2018-04-30 03:44:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5149028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GallicGalaxy/pseuds/GallicGalaxy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You just chose your destiny, you can't change that."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Winter

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally supposed to be my "It's-cold-outside-let's-cuddle-and-do-nothing" fluff fic but it ended up being basically an extended reference that nobody will get. If you do, I applaud you. If you don't, the entire analogy will seem a little strange and this may make like 21% sense.  
> I had been trying not to drag Lydia into these oneshots until I got the actual post-asylum AU fic up but that requires me finishing I Can't Feel Nothin' at all because the post-asylum AU is post-nurse!Miles and it REQUIRES EXPOSITION FROM THAT FIC *screeches* So Lydia is mentioned in this one, she's a character from this post-asylum sanitarium AU, she's the head nurse and also Eddie's individual nurse.

“You shouldn't love me.”

There it was.

Eddie rested his chin on Waylon's head. Waylon was wearing ludicrously soft red-and-white pajamas, in the spirit of the approaching season, lounging about in Eddie's room as he had become prone to doing.

Eddie had awoken abruptly around 6 a.m., restless and nervous as he usually was when he woke up so suddenly. He and Waylon were lying calmly together, Waylon offering him comfort. They'd opened the curtains, gazing out over the rugged mountain scenery. It always seemed to fanciful, so wild and untouched. The kind of distant woods people ran off into for adventures.

Waylon turned his head and looked Eddie in the eyes. “Well, by that logic, you probably shouldn't love me either.” Waylon said softly, without waiting to even hear said logic. Eddie sighed deeply.

“You don't have to love me back.” Eddie mumbled guiltily.

“We all do things we shouldn't do every now and again.” Waylon replied. Eddie sighed again.

“But I...I'm a bad person.” Eddie muttered. “I've done bad things to you. To a lot of people.”

“Yes, you may have.” Waylon began, as calm as ever. “You've been sick, you've been unstable. But the whole reason you're here is to _heal._ You've done bad things to a lot of people, and a lot of people have done bad things to you. But you can't let all that continue to define you.” All of a sudden, Waylon seemed to remember something, some funny little secret, and he cracked a smile. He lifted one of Eddie's huge hands to his lips and kissed it gently, eyes sparkling. “Trees keep growing.” He whispered, like a child who had just discovered something magical to its young sensibilities.

Eddie raised his eyebrows in bemusement. “Are you implying that I'm a tree?” He chuckled. Waylon gave a sunny little giggle.

“Yes, you're a beautiful tree.” He proclaimed, with vibrant sincerity. “And you know what trees do? They keep growing. They lose their leaves, their branches break...” His voice arched with enthusiasm, a solemn fire behind his pupils. “People carve initials and false hearts into their bark, their growth gets cut back, their limbs get old but they keep living. Even ancient trees have new growth.” Waylon laced his fingers in-between Eddie's, still smiling that knowing smile. “Scars stay on them, and they get sick and people cut away their sick limbs...But they keep growing. They keep _living._ ” Waylon giggled again, the happiness and toying secrecy in his eyes making Eddie feel like he was missing out on something.

“I feel like there's some inside joke I'm not getting here.” Eddie purred. “With the way you're laughing. But, nonetheless...thank you.” Eddie smiled a weak, honest smile. “That was very sweet. I...I really don't even know how to thank you.” Waylon chuckled and nuzzled him affectionately. He pressed their foreheads together, sharing his warmth with Eddie, blinking happily.

By this point, the sun would start rising soon. Waylon laid his head contentedly against Eddie's chest and gazed out at the lightening sky. “Look, Eddie, it's starting to snow!” Waylon exclaimed giddily.

“Oh, naturally.” Eddie commented sweetly. “Lydia's been going off about the mountain winters for a few weeks now.” Waylon smiled and buried his face against Eddie's chest.

“It'll be so lovely to see.” Waylon declared wondrously. “We can stay inside and watch the snow, and cuddle. We'll get Lydia to bring some warm breakfast up to us.” Waylon rambled eagerly. Eddie chuckled again, stroking Waylon's messy hair.

“And she will nag you for staying in someone else's room, but she still won't kick you out.” Eddie continued.

“As she usually does.” Waylon purred. He pulled a sheet up further over himself, snuggled against Eddie's strong core. Eddie kissed his forehead. “Oh, she'd love the tree reference.” Waylon noted. The sky was light blue, gradually casting more light over them; the sun's beams would start to be visible very soon.

A vehicle came slowly riding up the distant rise, its large form gradually becoming distinct through the trees that veiled the long road. It slowed down and pulled into the parking lot, hovering there for a moment before a few indistinct shapes emerged from its sides. They opened what could be determined was the trunk, and hauled out a few large boxes.

“Do you think that's Lydia there?” Waylon asked.

“Hmm?” Eddie murmured, turning his head and looking out the window. “It might be.”

“She's got boxes.” Waylon yawned. “Blankets, maybe. Some cute sweaters she'll give to all of us even though most of us probably won't wear them.”

“Ah, she means well.” Eddie shrugged. “She's a sweet little lady.” Waylon pressed his face into Eddie's neck.

“I love you.” He crooned sweetly.

“I love you too, darling.” Eddie whispered. He rubbed and shoulders a few times, a sad smile appearing on his face. “When I was young, I...” He began, lowly and seriously. “I didn't really have...comfort. For the most vulnerable years of my life. There was nobody who would take me on their lap and tell me it was going to be okay. Even at...Mount Massive. The old place. They didn't care about me; I was just a lab rat to them, a thing they could look at through glass and torture. Watch me run through mazes with no ending.”

“But now you're here.” Waylon replied. “I care about you. Lydia cares about you. And, believe it or not, the others care about you, too.” Waylon kissed Eddie's neck, tenderly and intimately. Eddie laughed the kind of laugh people utter when they're trying not to cry. “And right now you feel weak. You feel sick. Your sick branches are being cut back, and now you feel barren. Exposed. But you'll keep growing, you see. Your new growth will begin, and soon you'll be stronger and more beautiful than you've ever been.” Waylon laid his head back against Eddie's chest and sought his heartbeat. “It happened.” Waylon breathed, almost hoarsely. “You have scars. But the trees that people write about in poetry, that stand out in memories, are the ones with old scars, and the ones that aren't perfect. The ones that look like they've been standing for hundreds of years. No other tree in the forest looks like that one.”

Waylon closed his eyes as he narrated, the gentle rhythm of his voice holding back the tears that threatened the corners of Eddie's eyes. Outside the window, the snow was already starting to stick, clinging to the boughs in the distant mountain woods. By the time the sun was truly up, it would likely be glistening on every surface out there. The two vague figures they had seen walk through the entrance returned to the outdoors, walking stiffly and quickly through the snow and back to the SUV they had driven up in. They unloaded two more large and apparently heavy cardboard boxes from the back and carried them slowly back into the shelter of the lobby.

Eddie was slowly stroking Waylon's back, his breath filtering through Waylon's hair. His breaths became slightly ragged, and he murmured, “Thank you, dear. Thank you _so much_.”

“You can cry if you need to.” Waylon told him. Sometimes people needed to cry. To scream. To let their torrential emotions out wildly with no form or function. Eddie sniffed and mustered a half-sob. Waylon turned his attention away from the snow and the lightening sky, facing Eddie once again. “You've been through a lot.” He continued, seeing a tiny burst of water pour silently from the corners of Eddie's smiling eyes. “Just remember that you can always tell me about it.”

 


End file.
